# : obsessing over huh yunjin & silent hill. entp, 8TEEN, scorpio.
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Mistynat where Nat turns into an absolute sunshine when she’s with misty









I miss my girls oh man :/
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and just like that we watch adult mistynat being born



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my aching bones | after midnight ( photo 04 )


chapter summary : After the party you are drunk and upset, after shauna asks you that question about yearning you’re left in thought. Luckily, Natalie Scatorccio, who is on the same wavelength, has a solution to all of your problems.
warnings : alcohol mentions, suggestive but not pure nsfw, reader is inexperienced
This is your first time ever drunk driving, of course, there’s someone in your passenger seat too, who’s basically the only person you care about. You are mostly worried about crashing the car and potentially killing both of you, instead of the charges you might have to face. Nat watches you swerve slightly on the road, your hands shaking as you take a turn, a sigh escaping your lips. She can't think straight; that pill she took back at the party is messing with her head. Her vision is blurry, and all of a sudden, you look even more like a goddess to her. She throws her head back onto the headrest, softly giggling. You're oblivious to the drugs she took; you wonder how many drinks she really did have back there.
"What's gotten you so giddy?"
You question, which only makes her laugh. She turns her head towards you, her eyes drinking in the sight of your body—how well the dress complements you and how much skin you're showing. She has other ideas than spending the night at your house. Hopefully, your parents are gone, or asleep, maybe you both could sneak somewhere they can't walk in on you both. You shift in your seat, her stare affecting you more than it should. You can practically read her mind; the look she's giving you.. It's full of lust. You take another turn, and your breathing pattern becomes irregular. Her fingers sprawl over your knee, caressing the skin so gently it makes you melt.
"Y'know.."
She trails off, her focus on your legs instead of her words. You're not sure if you know or not, there's no way you're turning on Natalie Scatorccio. Your dress is brown, a nice shade, but it has to be from sophomore year at least. That's when you realize how tight it really is on you; your mother is going to kill you. You mentally prepare yourself as you pull into your driveway and park your car. You fall against the car seat, gulping as Nat opens the door and climbs out of your car. You wait a minute before getting out yourself, trailing behind her into your house.
You enter your living room, the cold fall air biting your skin. The lights are off, apart from a small lamp illuminating the space just enough so that you can see. The clock ticks quietly, you read it, "12:24". It's already past midnight, the party felt way shorter than it was. You're brought out of your thoughts when Nat pulls you towards the couch, a small "oof" emitting from your mouth when you crash onto the cushions. You bite your lip as her fingers smooth over your arm, her free hand brushing the hair from your face. You finally examine her pupils, which are very dilated. You haven't seen anything like that; it's obviously not from weed. She definitely popped something.
"You're so fucking beautiful,"
She whispers into your ear, inching closer to you by the second. You're already so tense, this gorgeous woman you've been crushing on for months is all over you, calling you beautiful. You want this, really bad, but you've never actually kissed anyone before, let alone a girl. Your hands shakily grab onto her shoulders, and you turn your body to face her. She's absolutely disheveled, it's hot. Her hair sticking to her forehead, her eyeliner smudged, her pupils filled with love. Nat places her hands on your hips, massaging your lower back. She's noticed you're tense, how your shoulders fail to fall down and relax, your elevated breathing, how shaky you're being with her.
"What? Never done this before?
"..Yeah, no."
You mumble, looking away from her. Your face turns a light red as Nat snorts, her head falling onto your shoulder. You feel utterly humiliated, such an inexperienced girl with another who's had plenty, you feel small. She picks her head up to look at you. Your stomach is in knots, her touch is driving you crazy. You want her to just kiss you already, ignore how stiff your body is currently. She is reading you like a book, she knows how anxious you are to kiss her right, not know how to make her feel good, because she's been in the same boat as you once. Her hand travels to your back, and she guides you towards the couch. You sink into the soft surface beneath you, your hands resting on her legs as she straddles you. She leans down to your ear and whispers.
"Let me take care of you, okay?"
You nod eagerly, finally looking into her eyes. She catches your lips for a kiss, gently rubbing circles on your cheek with her thumb. You kiss her back with hesitation, you wait a few seconds for her to pull away, tell you that you're doing everything wrong, and leave you high and dry. She doesn't do that; if anything, she presses against you more. With the little confidence you've mustered up, you kiss her back more passionately, tangling your fingers in her bleached hair. Her lips are gentle against yours; she doesn't want to scare you away this early on. You thought you were drunk before, but you swear this just made you more dizzy. Nat pulls away from you, resulting in you letting out an embarrassing whine. She worships the sight under her, your hair sprawled out over the couch, how red your lips are from the previous kiss.
"Am I doing alright-"
Nat quickly shuts you up, her lips crashing back down onto yours. It's a different feeling now; she was hungry for you. You let out a gasp when she nips at your bottom lip, her tongue entering your open mouth. She's driving you up the wall, you curse at yourself for how easily you submitted to her touch, how oblivious you are to her next action. You want to predict what she's going to do next, but fail miserably each time, your brain short-circuiting due to the situation at hand. She pulls up your dress, parting your legs with her knee. You whimper into the kiss, gripping her hair harder. Her hands rub the sides of your thighs, pawing at the soft skin. You sheepishly roll your hips into her, she smiles, and leaves your lips. Instead, latching onto your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive area. Anxiety courses through your veins; this time, you don't want to chase it away, it feels good, you want more, and more of her. You let out a content sigh as her fingers dip under the hem of your panties.
"Wait-"
You whisper out, footsteps trailing towards the living room fill your ears. Nat curses under her breath, and she instantly withdraws from you, collapsing on your chest and pretending to sleep. Your mom appears around the corner before you're able to copy her actions, your mother's face is laced with worry, squinting at you both on the couch.
"You're home.. Is she okay?"
Your mother asks while reading the clock in the living room, you look down at the girl on top of you, who seems sound asleep, and you almost believe her. Yeah, she's definitely fine, after marking your neck, and riling you up so much you feel wetness between your legs. It was a stupid idea to do this in the living room anyway, you knew that someone could walk in at any second, but you couldn't resist Nat. Your hand rests on top of her head, and you look at your mom.
"Yeah, we've had a tiring night. Don't let me keep you up, though."
Your mother smiles and mumbles a small goodnight before retreating to her room. You rest your head on the couch once again, relief washing over you. Nat raises herself up from you, running her fingers through her hair. You sit up and examine her. She seems frustrated, and you don't blame her. You feel like you're the one to blame for not taking her to your room instead. Your leg bounces anxiously, your brain fog disappearing and filling with worry. Nat looks over to you, a nervous expression imprinted on her face. If anything, she feels bad for trying to have you on your own living room couch; it isn't proper, especially since that would've been your first time. She stands up and offers you her hand. You take it and let her pull you up.
"Why don't we get to bed? We have the flight tomorrow."
Nat smiles sheepishly, pulling you towards her. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't resist her, especially after she was so patient with you earlier. You nod and move towards your room, your bed sounds great right about now. You're sobering up, and you don't want to deal with a horrible hangover in the morning. She follows behind you, not looking forward to the morning herself. The drive home, coming down from the pill she took tonight, she can see the headache she's going to have. You push open your door and collapse onto your bed, getting comfortable under your blanket. Nat slides beside you, curling against your side. As you drape your arms over her, your mind wanders to how you almost had your first time. Your bones ache with want, the feeling of her hands slowly undoing you, filling your psyche.
"Goodnight,"
You mumble into her ear, closing your eyes, and slowly drifting off to sleep.
synopsis ʚɞ your parents want you out of the house more, do something other than rot in your room while doing homework. You decide to use your photography talent for the school paper, taking pictures of the yellow jackets girl’s soccer team. Throughout your photoshoots of their various games, one girl piques your interest the most. Natalie Scatorccio.
a/n : such a short chapter but I hope you guys like it!! Reader and Nat kiss FINALLY
taglist — @mlovesunicorns @t-wylia @bisexual-stalin @theoreticalfreak @flurpe @girlie955 @firefl1ghts @lilliesandrosiess @princessleprechaunnn @joaniscruzing @wtfisthisnoclueman @sleepyjackets @stupendousbananasharkcop @zindoriyo @moonyxstars @scatorcciosbabe @pacatica
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Natalie Scatorccio x clueless!reader. like nat has been flirting for weeks at parties, but reader still doesn't notice it. and then at a party they are hanging out and a guy flirts with reader, and reader is all "oh he was just being friendly!". nat then realizes that reader is just a little oblivious to verbal forms of flirting, so she decides to SHOW reader that she was flirting...yk
ANON!! Your request has been finished! Guys, I haven’t written anything in maybe going on like 4/5 years so this was very therapeutic for me. I’m posting this immediately because if not I’ll obsess over it and then lock it away in my drafts forever. I stopped this before it got NSFW but I’m open for a second part if requested! Hope y’all enjoy!
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: Typical shit. Weed, alcohol
The View From Down Under
You hadn’t realized that finally making varsity would mean trading Friday nights with Alina—smoking whatever you could steal from her brother’s stash—for getting dragged to random parties with Lottie and the rest of the team. Yet, here you were, red solo cup shoved into your hands by Randy Walsh, standing in front of a blazing bonfire while drunk teenagers stumbled around you.
Lottie had long since abandoned you, muttering something around a cigarette that might’ve been Laura Lee’s name, but you hadn’t asked—and honestly, hadn’t cared enough to.
Your mind was drifting, lulled by the roar of the fire and the shouts of the crowd, just loud enough to drown out the swirl of thoughts buzzing in your head. You sipped your drink absently, eyes fixed across the flames on a very drunk Shauna arguing with Taissa, while Jackie attempted to separate them like she hadn’t already had enough. There was no universe where you were getting involved in that.
“They’re fucking psychotic,” a familiar raspy voice cut through the noise, nearly making you drop your drink. You didn’t have to look to know it was Natalie—but you did anyway.
She had a cigarette halfway to her lips, but her gaze was already locked on you, wearing the same unreadable expression she always had when she looked your way. It made your stomach twist. You held her stare for a beat before humming in acknowledgment and looking away—back to Jackie, who was now shoving Shauna down onto a lawn chair like a misbehaving toddler.
After that, it became a silent game—glances traded like cards. One minute, you could feel her eyes on the back of your head; the next, you were watching the smoke curl from her lips like you were hypnotized. Her pupils were blown wide, her grin lazy. Definitely high on something her crew had scored. Whatever was in your cup hit you all at once, the night fuzzing around the edges.
You forgot you were supposed to look away.
You couldn’t stop staring—not at the cigarette, or the way her lips curled around it, or the smoke painting lazy spirals against her skin. It wasn’t until you caught the smirk twitching at the edge of her mouth that you turned sharply, muttering something about the “damn alcohol.”
Then she leaned in, voice so low it practically slithered into your ear. “You want one?”
You didn’t even realize how close you’d gotten. When had that happened?
Her tone was pure challenge, mischief flickering beneath her cool expression. It made your chest tighten. You nodded before you could second-guess yourself.
Her smile widened as she passed you a loose cigarette. You started to fumble for an excuse—you didn’t have a lighter—but she beat you to it. Her fingers brushed yours, feather-light, as she flicked the lighter to life. You leaned closer. Ignored the strange flutter in your stomach. Inhaled.
Her grin turned soft, impressed. Almost… pleased. “No uniform tonight,” she said, head tilting, eyes dragging across you like she was seeing something new. “It’s… nice.”
You coughed, nearly choking on the smoke, swaying a little on your feet. God, were your cheeks burning? Did Natalie Scatorccio just give you a compliment?
It sure felt like one.
“Thanks,” you managed. “You look… nice too.”
It came out smaller than hers had. Less cool. But she just hummed in reply, her weight shifting as she rocked on her heels. Her gaze flicked over your shoulder, something catching her attention—her brows twitched, just for a second—but then she was back, that grin tugging at her lips again.
She giggled, light and warm, and reached out to squeeze your elbow. “You’re adorable. I’ll see you around, Newbie.”
And just like that, she was gone—vanishing into the party haze, leaving behind only the scent of cigarettes and vanilla.
You stood there, blinking after her, the cigarette forgotten in your hand. Maybe joining the soccer team wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The next party had come quicker than you’d liked. Jackie had practically dragged you to her house after practice to help “set up.” Somehow, she’d convinced the team to do a movie night at her place. Things had been getting tense lately—some girl who’d recently been bumped to varsity clearly hadn’t been pulling her weight, more interested in boys and clout than the actual game. No one had been able to agree on how to handle it, so instead, everyone had been tiptoeing around an irritated Taissa and playing nice for your beloved captain. Hence, “decorating” duty.
You hadn’t minded spending time with Jackie and Shauna—you just hadn’t known them that well. You hadn’t been able to pin down their dynamic outside of being close. But you’d seen the way Shauna had looked at Jackie when Jeff wasn’t paying attention. And the way she’d looked at him when Jackie was. Not that it had been any of your business.
You’d only really been close with Lottie and Van—people who’d floated in and out of your life over the years. And… Natalie, now, you guessed. Ever since the last party, when she’d so graciously offered you a cigarette, she’d been… different. She’d still played rough during practice, still knocked the wind out of you when she stole the ball—but afterward, she’d started flashing crooked smiles, sometimes asking questions about your life, always loose and casual. Occasionally, she’d even been offering you another cigarette before warm-ups, like it was nothing. You’d started slipping your notes into her locker on days she skipped class. You hadn’t been best friends, not even close—but there had been something friendly there. Something shifting.
Which was how you’d ended up squished on the couch between her and Van, the group’s popcorn bowl nestled in your lap. You hadn’t been paying attention to the movie at all. You’d been too busy trying not to flinch every time Natalie’s fingers brushed yours, too focused on the breathy chuckle she let out when she leaned in to whisper a stupid joke about the plot. You’d ignored Van’s quiet laughter every time your breath hitched.
Halfway through the movie, Jackie had paused it, calling a group bathroom break and telling everyone to refill snacks and drinks. Natalie had flashed a grin your way as she stood, pulling a little baggie from her pocket. “All I heard was smoke break,” she’d teased, grabbing the popcorn from your lap before disappearing out the door.
You could feel Van grinning beside you, her amusement radiating without even needing to look.
You’d elbowed her. “What?”
She’d laughed, poking at the red rising on your cheeks before throwing her hands up in surrender. “Nothing, nothing. Just... you and Nat’ve gotten close, that’s all.”
You’d glanced toward the door—Natalie was out of earshot, thank god—and pushed Van again, your voice low and panicked. “What are you even talking about?”
Van had shrugged, giving you a sideways look. “I’m just saying—Nat’s not nice to people. Not unless she wants something.”
You’d scoffed. “She’s just being friendly.”
That had earned you a full-on belly laugh that hadn’t stopped until Natalie strolled back in, her eyes visibly redder, a lopsided smile on her face as she balanced three beers and your bowl of popcorn in her arms like it was nothing. You’d lunged forward instinctively to save the bowl, and she’d flashed you a grateful grin before flopping back onto the couch—closer this time. Her thigh had brushed yours. It was a cramped couch. It was fine. It was fine.
“Miss me?” she’d drawled, voice slower, lazier.
You’d reached for a beer she handed you, your fingers grazing again. “This two-seater felt so empty without you,” you’d shot back, dryly.
Her arm had casually draped over the back of the couch, fingers trailing lightly along your shoulder. She’d leaned in, lips ghosting your ear. “Oh, I bet, princess. I felt you yearning for me all the way from the porch.”
Before you could think of a comeback, Van had snorted behind you. “You two wanna get a room?”
You’d elbowed her without breaking eye contact with Natalie, who was still looking at you like she was sizing you up. Her gaze had dropped to your lips, just for a second, and when she spoke again, her fingers had tightened slightly over your shoulder.
“Nah,” she’d murmured. “It’s hotter how red she gets when everyone’s watching.”
You’d been too flustered to speak, heart hammering against your ribs like it was trying to escape.
Thankfully, Jackie’s voice had sliced through the moment before it could swallow you whole. “Okay, movie’s starting in thirty seconds! Everyone shut up and get comfortable!”
You hadn’t let yourself look at Natalie again, afraid of what you’d find in her eyes.
She’d been bold like that. Sharp and toothy in all the places you weren’t. It had been part of what had drawn you to her in the first place—even before she knew you existed.
She was just being friendly, you reminded yourself.
Right?
Eventually, you got a Friday to breathe. The Yellowjackets had been on a kind of winning streak lately, blowing through the competition gracefully—after hours and hours of extra practice. You’d finally made it to Spring Break: two weeks without school, without soccer. Well, mostly. Jackie was still making everyone commit to at least two practices so no one would be “off their game” once school started back up.
That meant the team had scattered. Lottie was out of town visiting her parents. Shauna and Jackie had taken a cabin trip with Jackie’s family. The rest of the team—you didn’t know well enough to even guess what their plans were.
You were sitting next to Alina, who was yapping your ear off about some boy at her school. She’d transferred at the beginning of the year on a scholarship to a fancier school up north. You’d been jealous—but if she hadn’t left, you never would’ve joined the soccer team. So you supposed a win was a win.
The air outside was muggy, sticking to your skin like shitty sunscreen. It had rained the last five days in a row, and the heat was heavy, unrelenting. You and Alina were sprawled across the back porch, cigarettes dangling from your lips as you sipped some lukewarm beer you’d grabbed from the cooler at the small party her brother was throwing.
Van and Taissa were tucked away in some corner of the backyard, doing a terrible job of being subtle. Not that anyone here would care.
But your eyes were drawn to Natalie. Had been from the second she walked through the door in a red plaid skirt, her signature leather jacket slung over her shoulders, eyeliner perfectly smudged. She was standing near a radio, tinkering with the knobs, a joint hanging from her lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You knew she was friends with Alina’s brother, Kevyn. Over the years, the group of you had drifted into each other’s orbit—though back then, neither Kevyn nor Natalie would’ve given you the time of day.
Alina nudged you in the side, cold condensation from her drink splashing against your leg, a sharp contrast to the wet heat. It worked. You blinked and dragged your eyes away from Natalie.
“Are you even listening to me?” Alina sighed, a pout softening her features.
You shook your head and finished off your beer. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
She rolled her eyes, but without any real bite. Her gaze followed yours—landing squarely on Natalie’s frustrated stance by the radio—and she smirked, bumping her shoulder into yours.
“Why don’t you just go— I don’t know—actually talk to her?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, feigning innocence.
Even after all these months, after how much closer you and Natalie had gotten, you still felt the need to tiptoe. Especially with so many eyes always on you. Van and Taissa looked at you like they could see straight through your skin. The rest of the team threw strange glances when Natalie joked too loudly or leaned too close in the locker room. They didn’t get it. Didn’t understand why someone like her would hang out with someone like you.
Alina just hummed distractedly, her eyes locking onto the boy she’d been going on about, now walking through the back gate. She at least gave you the courtesy of leaning over and whispering, “Stop being a weirdo and just go talk to her,” before she was off, launching herself into his arms.
You shook your empty can as the soft hum of the record player finally spilled into the yard. Natalie cheered from her post beside it. And as if she could feel your stare, she turned toward you, smirking as she nodded you over.
Well. You did need another beer.
You made your way over slowly, ignoring the hushed whispers from Van and Taissa as you passed.
As soon as you were close, Natalie slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you against her side. She took a deep inhale, then exhaled the smoke away from your face.
“You proud of me or what?”
You shook your head, letting her guide you toward an old, ratty recliner tucked in the back of the open garage. A few people were scattered around, but most had gravitated toward the open air, desperate for any semblance of breeze.
“Oh, definitely,” you said. “You’re a natural technician. I always knew there had to be some kind of skill in there somewhere.” You knocked playfully against her head with your free hand.
She laughed—one of those belly laughs that made your stomach drop—and pulled you down into the recliner with her. There wasn’t really enough room for both of you, but Natalie didn’t seem to care. She tugged your legs over hers and settled her hand on your thigh like it belonged there.
“You think you’re so funny, huh?” she teased, taking another hit before pressing her beer can into your hands.
You took it, grateful for any cold at all in this heat. Her body pressed against yours wasn’t helping. Every nerve ending buzzed where her hand rested casually on your leg.
She held the joint out to you. “Want a hit?”
You nodded quickly, trying not to seem too eager. You and Alina usually just smoked whatever she could sneak from Kevyn’s stash, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled about his little sister—or you—getting involved.
You reached out to take the joint, but Natalie pulled her hand back, grinning.
“Nuh uh. I wanna try something,” she said, smooth as ever.
You watched as she brought the joint back to her lips, taking a deep inhale. Her hand moved from your leg to your chin, gripping gently as she pulled you closer until your noses bumped. You gasped, wide-eyed, just as a stream of smoke spilled from her mouth—straight into yours.
You exhaled quickly, turning your head, the blush on your cheeks impossible to hide. You tried to cover it with another swig of beer, looking away. Van caught your eye from across the yard, grinning with a teasing smirk before making exaggerated kissy faces at Taissa, sending them both into a full-blown laughing fit. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Natalie, who wore an amused look of her own.
“That’s... new.”
She shrugged, letting her head fall back against the chair, her hand returning to your thigh to trace slow, lazy circles.
“Eh. Saw Travis do it with some girl at a party once. Wanted to try it.” Her eyes locked with yours as her hand slid higher. “You seemed like the perfect candidate.”
The way she said it. The way she did everything—so calm, so sure of herself, like it didn’t matter how you reacted. Like she wasn’t setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.
You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer.
So, you didn’t.
You just leaned in again.
She met you halfway, mouth already full of smoke. This time, your lips brushed—less coordinated, less careful, but neither of you cared. You both pulled away giggling.
Natalie didn’t go far, nudging her nose against your cheek, still laughing.
You didn’t get long to enjoy it.
Alina barreled into the garage. Natalie’s grip on your thigh tightened, a small huff escaping her at the sight.
“I need you. Now,” Alina said, in that urgent tone that screamed best friend emergency. She barely registered how tangled up the two of you were before grabbing your arm and hauling you up.
You threw a loose smile over your shoulder at Natalie—one you hoped said I’m sorry and To be continued all at once.
She just nodded, a ghost of a smile lingering on her lips as she watched you go, the last trace of annoyance melting off her face.
The Yellowjackets won States. You guys had actually done it. Pep rallies, photoshoots, even a spot in the newspaper. And naturally, Lottie was throwing a party. She was practically known for her infamous ragers—her house was ginormous, and her parents were practically nonexistent.
The energy inside was electric, bass pulsing through the floors. You saw blurs of faces you’d never even noticed in the hallways before, all of them now crowding you, offering high fives, dragging you into pictures. Even the boys’ team, bitter that you were going to Nationals and they weren’t, showed up—kegs in hand.
You’d been hugged so many times your ribs ached. You were pretty sure a stranger had kissed you on the cheek after Van screamed about your game-winning assist. You smiled through it all, trying not to look like you wanted to shrink into the couch cushions.
It wasn’t bad, exactly.
Just… strange.
The exhaustion from the match had finally caught up to you. Your legs felt like jelly, and your eyes were heavy—though that might’ve had something to do with the three shots Jackie had made you take. You were tucked comfortably into a sectional in one of Lottie’s endless spare rooms—the so-called “game room,” complete with a karaoke machine that looked suspiciously professional.
Taissa and Van were absolutely butchering a pop song, drunk-laughing into each other’s shoulders like they’d fall over without the other to lean on. You giggled lazily, eyes drifting toward the door just as Natalie strolled in, joint already lit.
She spotted you instantly.
Her whole face lit up as she made a beeline toward you, tossing back the last of your drink before you could even greet her.
“Hey,” you pouted, throwing a pillow that she caught one-handed, still laughing. That sound made your chest ache a little—something about the way it cut through the music and the chatter and found you directly.
She dropped onto the couch beside you, pushing the joint into your fingers, her touch lingering. Her eyes burned into the side of your face as you took a drag, her knee bumping yours, her arm draping casually across your shoulders.
“Guess that means you gotta come get another drink with me,” she said, teasing.
You stuck your bottom lip out dramatically. “Won’t you just bring me one since you stole mine?”
She smirked, grabbing the back of your neck like she was going to shotgun—
But she didn’t.
Instead, she leaned in close, her breath grazing your cheek before her teeth nipped at your jaw. You yelped, pulling back dramatically.
She cackled, clutching her stomach. “Should’ve seen your face!”
You didn’t respond. The liquor and the weed made it hard to tell where your body ended and hers began, your senses all scrambled. But that was always what being around Natalie felt like—a quiet kind of chaos. Especially when she was high or drunk. That’s when she got affectionate—a hand on your thigh, her shoulder pressed against yours, dragging your legs over hers like it was nothing.
You’d grown to love it. Even when it flustered you.
You followed her into the kitchen to grab a drink, her body brushing yours like a puzzle piece that just fit. She leaned close, her hand resting lightly on your waist.
“Just get a beer,” she murmured into your ear, her breath warm on your neck.
“You just want me to get it so you can steal it again,” you teased.
She only shrugged, that same lazy, confident smirk on her lips.
Before she could respond, Randy Walsh stumbled up, pressing in a little too close. His words were slurred, but his grin was solid. “Can’t leeeet a pretty girl like you make her own drink. Allow me.”
You felt Natalie go still beside you. Her hand twitched against your side but didn’t move. And Randy was already splashing random liquors into a cup before you could say no.
You smiled awkwardly. “Thanks… Randy. That’s sweet.”
He beamed, handing you the cup like it was a gift from God. You took a sip and barely swallowed it down, fighting the urge to gag. He didn’t seem to notice, stepping closer until the tips of your shoes touched, his hand reaching out to gently grab your wrist.
You turned to Natalie for help.
But she was gone.
Just like that. The space behind you was empty, the warmth of her touch already fading.
Your eyes scanned the room, over Tai and Van tangled up on the couch, Jackie and Shauna laughing at something Jeff said—
No Natalie.
You pulled your arm from Randy’s grip gently. “Sorry, Randy. I, uh… need to do something.”
Before he could answer, you were gone, leaving the drink behind and grabbing a beer instead. You wandered through the hallways until you heard the familiar sound of some grungy band playing through a cracked door. You knocked once, then let yourself in.
Lottie’s room.
Natalie was sprawled across the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t look at you right away, but when she did, something in her expression made your chest squeeze. You couldn’t read her—not really—but this felt… new. Like something unspoken was simmering just beneath the surface.
You didn’t say anything. Just flopped onto the bed beside her.
She stayed quiet, kicking her feet lazily off the edge of the bed. You nudged her foot with yours until she finally turned her head. Her gaze softened, and she rolled toward you, arm curling over your waist.
“Hey,” she mumbled into your shoulder.
You bumped her head gently with your own, fingers tracing light patterns over her wrist. The words left your mouth before you could stop them, soft and a little slurred. “You left me.”
“I mean, you seemed pretty preoccupied with Randy fucking Walsh,” she grumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.
You scoffed. “Randy? Get real. He was just being nice. I didn’t want to be rude.”
Natalie stilled.
Then, like someone had poured cold water down her back, she sat bolt upright, staring at you like you’d just spoken another language.
“Just being nice?” she repeated, eyebrows raised. “He was obviously flirting with you.”
You blinked, completely thrown. “What are you talking about?”
Natalie just stared at you.
Then she laughed. Sharp, almost breathless, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
She shook her head, exasperated and amused. “God, you’re so fucking clueless.”
You frowned. “Clueless about what?”
“You—” She started, then stopped. Her eyes were still locked on yours, but her voice dipped lower now, quieter. “You don’t see the way people look at you.”
“I mean…” You trailed off, still not understanding. “What does that even—?”
Natalie just looked at you, dumbfounded, like she was seeing you for the first time and trying to make sense of the image. You blinked at her, still confused. Natalie threw her hands up, dropping back onto the bed with a dramatic huff. “Jesus Christ. You really didn’t know.”
Your brows pulled together, frustration blooming in your chest—not at her, not really, but at whatever you were clearly missing. “Know what?”
“That he was flirting with you,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Like, blatantly. The drink thing? The wrist thing? The standing so close he could breathe your air thing?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You thought about Randy, the weird way he smiled, how close he stood, the way he called you pretty—but you'd brushed all of it off. Guys were weird sometimes. Friendly in a way that made you squirm. But flirting? Really?
“I just thought he was being nice,” you repeated again, quieter this time.
Natalie let out a long exhale, propping herself up on one elbow, her eyes locked on you. She didn’t look mad anymore. She just looked... thoughtful.
“You really don’t get it,” she said, more to herself than to you. “God. I’ve been trying to flirt with you for months.”
Your stomach dropped. “Wait. What?”
Natalie laughed, but there wasn’t a lot of humor in it. “The smoke thing? The lap thing? Literally everything I do when I’m around you? That’s flirting.”
Your brain scrambled to catch up. You replayed a million tiny moments all at once—the touches, the teasing, the way her eyes always lingered longer than necessary, the way she looked at you when you were too tipsy to walk straight or when you made her laugh so hard she snorted. All the times your heart raced, all the times you talked yourself out of reading into it.
“I... I thought that was just you,” you said quietly.
Natalie’s expression softened. “It is me. But it’s also me trying to figure out if you feel the same way. Because I’ve liked you for a long time. And I wasn’t sure if you didn’t notice... or if you were just pretending not to.”
Natalie stared at you, like she was waiting for you to run. Like she was daring you not to.
You didn’t have a plan. You didn’t even really think. Your body just moved—drunk off adrenaline, and weed, and months of wanting without really knowing why. You leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t some perfect movie-moment kiss. It was messy, and rushed, and slightly off-center because you both went for it at the same time. But it was right.
She kissed you back like she’d been waiting to exhale.
When you finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, both of you breathless and grinning, you whispered, “So that was definitely flirting, right?”
Natalie laughed, loud and real. “Yeah. That was flirting.”
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PREY .ᐟ 𝓛OTTIE MATTHEWS


♱ spend one day with the deer, even a hunter learns to fear; where you and lottie prove who’s predator, who’s prey
♱ cw; slight!nsfw, angst, harsh language, violence, sexual tension, making out, dom!lottie
you’ve always been a hunter, since you could walk, you’ve learnt to cradle a rifle in your hands. you grew to love it, like a slave loved its master. you knew it, like another set of hands.
your father was a huntsman, and his father before him.
he loved with his expertise, the only role he ever assumed with you was a mentor; thus, you undertook that of a disciple.
you worshipped your father, and though he only loved you with a gun in your hands, you had never loved anybody as much as you loved him. that was, until you met her.
she made you questions your faith, your wit, and sometimes your identity. she was just, quite the unstoppable force.
you thought you were the hunter, dignified by the blood shed between your fingers--but was that all to you?
she had a look to her; that of a deer’s staring into headlights.
as cliche as it sounded, the way she spoke to you--no, when the two of you fought, her foremost reaction will always be to stare back at you. eyes wide, frozen, and startled.
you thought her to be awfully like the deer you’d slay.
like you were gazing through your scope, catching its eyes. it caught sight of you, but it appeared momentarily paralyzed by its innate, curious urge to scavenge. it is often an expression of confusion, or some plane of fear, as if caught between the instinct to flee, and the shock.
but by the time it realized it was staring straight into danger’s eyes, it was too late.
something about her, lottie matthews, reminded you of that.
nothing about her was threatening, from her almond eyes to her sun-kissed caramel tone, she exuded a soothing glow.
that’s why, of all the people you had imagined you would catch yourself ensnared in a power struggle with, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that it was her.
especially when you were the voice of reason.
“hey, ranger! we’re running short on meat.” mari called.
you slammed the door shut behind you, a thick shawl of snow clustered on your shoulders drizzled around you. kissed by the cool flecks of ice, van let out a loud whine. you undid the strap of the rifle, lifting it over your head before setting it down by the door. frostbitten fingers clawed at the bandanas wrapped across every inch of skin on your head.
your eyes peered out the crevice you had left, your lashes frosted and your cheeks pink.
numb fingertips made your cask of torn dresses and cloth stitched together harder to shed, but eventually, you managed to yank the tight helm off your head.
the first thing you did was inhale, taking in as deep of a breath as you could before exhaling.
god, you missed air that didn’t burn your lungs with each breath. it was a blessing you had never appreciated more.
“another failed mission, 007?” mari snidely remarked.
the eerie glare you shot her way whilst undoing your boots was enough to silence her snarky comments. “it’s a barren hell out there. i barely got past the first grove.”
“maybe you could try the lake… maybe there’s fish under.”
every pair of eyes turned to melissa, peering back at her as if she had just said the most idiotic thing ever; because she did.
“i couldn’t even keep my finger on the trigger,” you muttered, “what makes you think i can hack through a frozen lake?”
“then what’re we supposed to do? starve?” misty cried.
when you felt the stinging ache of feel returning to your frost bitten fingers. you made your way over to where mari tended to the pot of a steaming concoction. your limbs stiff and taut, you grunted as your knees forcibly bent.
you sat, leant against the stone frame of the fireplace, eyes fluttering shut at the raging fire thawing your frigid body.
“i don’t know, quigley,” you sighed, “but i’m tapped out.”
“you can’t be tapped out, nat’s still sick--how about this, it’s still light out, maybe we could go back out there and look again. there has to be something.” tai prompted. she stormed towards the door, reaching for the gun.
you quickly stood to stop her, rushing over to usher her back with a hand up. “i’ve been out there all day, tai. i’m not stepping foot outside again until i can feel my fucking feet. and i’m sure as hell not letting you near a gun.”
“i can shoot. if you’re not gonna do your job, then i will.”
you clenched your jaw. “i’ll show you how to use a gun if you don’t back the hell off, turner.”
“guys,” lottie called softly. all heads snap towards the back.
“knock some sense into her,” tai groaned, crossing her arms. “or we’re all gonna fucking starve.”
“you don’t know the woods. if you go out there, i can promise you a death much more painful than starvation.”
“are you threatening me--?”
“who’s standing on the wrong end of this gun right now?”
“guys!” what once was lottie’s low, sensual voice turned sharp, this time enough to still all voices in the room. if anybody held such unspeakable power, it was her.
everybody seemed to submit unanimously, avoiding her eyes like it was some war crime. like they’d be wronging the throne.
“we can’t afford time being wasted on mindless arguing. we need to come up with something to ration through winter.” she announced, you swallowed a scoff. “y/n, hand me the gun.”
grimacing, you clutched it tighter. “what? fuck no.”
“i am protected by its generous hand, y/n. you’ve done well, now let me face it, it will provide what we need.”
“the land’s dead, lottie. and so is everything that lives on it.” you sneered, “animals won’t magically come out from hibernation because some dollar store jesus form wiskayok is walking herself through six feet of snow.”
“it hasn’t chosen you as a channel. accept it, and you shall see what greater good you can do by surrendering your position.”
“how about i just put a bullet through your fucking chest?” you challenged, cocking the rifle. your eyes never tore away from the taller, your hands steady, familiar on the gun.
“jesus, y/n, have you lost your fucking mind?” nat cried.
“this shit will blow straight through your chest cavity and pop your lungs like a balloon.” you gritted, “let’s see how your wilderness god saves you then, hm?”
“y/n, put the gun down!” ben yelled, “think rationally!”
“oh my god, travis, do something!” mari squealed, but the boy just scoffed back. “like what? she has a fucking gun!”
your breath small and your hands still, you glared lottie in the eye, your gaze unwavering. you’ve seen that look so many times before, oftentimes, they never stare back too long.
except, amidst those dark, glossy pupils, you sensed the unmistakable presence of serenity. despite facing with death.
like she was ready to embrace her as she comes. unafraid.
and what’s a hunter to its prey when no fear lies within them at the moment of reckoning?
“what do you say, lottie? wanna help a friend out here?”
“y/n, stop!” misty begged frantically, “killing lottie won’t save anybody--it won’t help! don’t do anything rash!”
“we need food, right? maybe this is the wilderness’ calling.” shauna chortled, evidently amused at the events unfolding before her. though you were aware of her demented, derailing state of mind since her stillborn son’s birth, you were somewhat glad somebody was standing in your corner.
though a gun was aimed uncomfortably close to her face, lottie remained indifferent, an eased expression across her features.
“you’re a hunter, you don’t kill without purpose.”
“wrong. i don’t care for what stands before my gun. as long as it breathes, it dies.” you muttered back through gritted teeth. your hands were steady now, thawed from fire raging in the ashy fireplace feet away. held up against your cheek, your finger settled on the trigger. “give me one good reason i shouldn’t shoot you in the fucking skull.”
“it speaks to you through me. as i stand, it protects you.”
“i don’t believe in faux religion, lottie. i believe what i see.”
you stared at her, she stared back into your headlight. unwavering, still and not willing to budge from your way.
“you’re still here, aren’t you? you’re here, those who aren’t, aren’t. it treasures you for a reason, it’s gated you from harsh conditions.” she preached, raising her arm, her fingers stretched to reach out for the snout of your rifle. “we need you. and it needs me. thankfully, it has blessed us with a fruitful spring. we just need to remain patient, our time will come.”
when her fingers came in reach of your gun, you jerked back.
instinctively, you spun the rifle, knocking her straight in the nose with the heel. lottie stumbled back, body thrashing through the wooden door and tumbled back into the snow as she reached for her bleeding nose.
before anybody could reach her, you pointed the gun at the few hesitant to help. “i’d think again.”
travis held both hands up, backing away. tucked behind him, cowering in fear, was mari and akilah, now unwilling to get in line of fire to help a groaning lottie to her feet.
it silenced, only the fire crackling inside could be heard.
lottie’s pained whining was muffled by the hand against her lips, blood staining her woollen sleeve.
“nobody blames you, y/n,” she sighed softly. “you did what you could, but the wilderness is not listening to you anymore.”
you didn’t say anything. you dropped your empty snares and looked her dead in the eye.
“you’re exhausted,” she continued, slowly propping herself up. she wiped at her nose, hissing at the sharp fracture at the bridge. “it understands your struggle, and it is seeking your strength. letting it guide you isn’t a sign of weakness, y/n, it just means you’ll be lead out of the darkness quicker.”
“i’d be really careful with my next words if i were you.”
she didn’t flinch. she sat engulfed in white, fingers trembling as her breath shook. “you don’t have to be afraid. this burden was never yours. you don’t have to bear it alone anymore.”
“you think this is about burden?” you snarled. “this is blood. my father taught me to skin a buck when I was six. you talk to trees and chase ghosts. i kill to keep us alive.”
your hands stilled, your eyes dull and dark. threatening.
her pleas were silent, but for a second, you wanted to end it--to silence her voice forever, bury her prophecies in the snow.
then your eyes caught sight of the cross around her neck, the one your father would’ve had branded on you if he could. a pendent holding all that your father had to give, one forced from your hands and collared around her throat like a thorned choker when she was crowned queen. she’d worn it every day since. you remembered your hands shaking as you tied it around her neck, teary-eyed and lip quivering as you parted with the last bit of your heritage. you remembered how she’d whispered “thank you” like it mattered.
your finger twitched on the trigger. then you stopped.
your breath fogged the air between you, and for a moment, all was still. it was like the eyes she described were real--greedy, watching you from between the nooks.
you stood. no one dared speak. lottie coughed and curled in on herself in the snow, her lips bloodied, but still whispering prayers to the woods like they had ears for her preachings.
you sighed, the gun lowering. you bit your tongue.
“get the fuck out of my face.” you hissed, “and stay away.”
first to rush to the maui girl’s aid was van. akilah tended to her nose with a cloth, as more yellowjackets gathered to usher their freezing queen back inside.
left standing outside, the door shut behind them. the cold crept up your spine, working fast to seize whatever warmth channeled through your blood. but you sat there anyway.
perhaps being a killer was in your blood. but mercy--as well.
seven hours in the cold, from dawn ‘til dusk, you were out voyaging your way through depths of snow. all for nothing.
the last thing you thought you’d do when you returned was sit on the steps outside, flushed cheeks kissed by the frosty air as warmth raged on inside. but the cold seemed to be the last thing crossing your mind right then.
you were so sick of everybody, so sick of their demands.
like dogs biting the hand that feeds.
they were so vicious, so unforgiving, digging their fangs into you like you weren’t the only reason they hadn’t died from famine yet. why were you working so hard? busting your ass during the day, losing feeling in your hands? for them?
ungrateful bastards. all of them. only knew how to take.
you missed the team you once were, the kind that didn’t eat people, that didn’t orbit around some supernatural entity.
your friends. the ones who saw beyond your value as a hunter.
now, looking at you, they frown, they sneer. unless you walked through those doors with a deer hogtied over your shoulder, they can’t even bear a glance your way without whining.
your thoughts kept spinning in circles, dragging you back to the past like a current you couldn’t escape. back to the day the plane had gone down. back to the first time you saw her at soccer tryouts. you were fighting for the last defender position, and you remembered absolutely resenting her for posing such competition for you. when a senior was pardoned for an injury, you both made the team. you recalled so vividly the way she got under your skin, but looking back, it seemed so trivial.
she was always different. she never really belonged to you--or to anyone. she belonged to something bigger.
there were nights you’d lie awake in the dark, the warmth of her body pressed against yours as the others slept around you, and you’d wonder if she was awake and present with you or not. you’d get your answer when you hear her gulp, the faint thumping of her racing heart against your back.
every time you thought about saying it, about closing that distance, she'd pull away, lost in her visions or her prayers, as if some god was whispering things in her ear that you couldn't hear, couldn’t understand. and since it lead nowhere, the little connection you thought you had died with everything else in the spring as winter swallowed everything in its midst.
“y/n?” you didn’t need to look up to know that voice. it was the same one converting half the girls into wilderness devotes.
“come inside, dinner is ready.”
you scoffed, shaking your head as you glanced down at the snowed top of your boots. your picked at your fingers.
“what dinner? i haven’t caught anything in months.”
“you shan’t blame yourself,” she replied in a gentle tone, “winter is unmerciful. but even such cruel conditions have its purpose. trust it has something great installed for us.”
“yeah, well, maybe tell them that.” you gestured backwards at the cabin, nestling the rifle in your lap. “‘cause i think belt soup has run its course as a house favourite.”
“it’s going to be dark soon. i urge you to come inside.”
you felt so ungrateful. you felt so selfish. you wondered if this was what jackie had wished for the night of first snowfall.
“i can’t stand another second in there, lottie.” you snapped, “i’d rather sit alone in the fucking cold, okay? just fuck off.”
part of you resented her for preying on your vulnerability.
for toying with what you thought was feelings for her.
lottie cocked her head aside, glancing down at the back of your frame in sympathy. she felt for your defiance, she did.
it wasn’t easy, carrying twenty lives in your hands.
kneeling, she took a seat beside you, her breath puffing clouds from her nose. she was only clothed in a sheer boho dress now, laura lee’s, and a thin fur jacket. you assumed the other was taken to be washed by one of her lackeys.
she was shivering, but she didn’t let that interfere,
“do you want me to hold a gun to your head again?” you murmured, “‘cause honestly it’s very tempting right now.”
she just smiled, exhaling through her nose softly.
“tell me the truth, y/n. as i see it, you’ve been burdened by your responsibilities, would you explain to me what exactly has been troubling you?” lottie inquired gently. carefully.
“you wouldn’t understand.”
“how are you certain? you haven’t even tried sharing.”
“you’re a trust fund baby with more rooms in your mansion than i have meals in a day. you’ve never raised a finger in your fucking life, how would you know what it feels like to work for anything?” you scoffed, “y’know, i find it fitting you’ve been named queen, you just sit on your ass and wait around for people like me to serve up a day of near-death experience.”
“is that what’s angering you so much?”
no. why are you talking to me like i’m one of them?
your breath hitched. “answering with more questions isn’t helping your case, lot. if anything, i want to shoot you blank in the face more than i ever have right now.”
listening to your words closely, lottie could make out the subtext pretty clearly. it didn’t take much to read who you were--who you’ve been melded to be, but not everybody had just the right eye to catch those little slivers.
you were raised to kill; hence, your instinct was to fight.
she was raised to survive; thus, hers was to run.
or perhaps, it was the her when medicated. because since she had been off her medication, her need to flee has diminished to such a tiny degree, she had no reason to fear anymore. she didn’t fear the hunter, and she didn’t fear the kiss of death looming over the rifle’s snout. she had no reason to fear you.
“your father isn’t here.” she simply responded.
the reply caught you off guard, and your eyes widened for a moment, revealing more than you initially wanted.
“there’s nothing to prove,” she continued, “nobody to please.”
“no.” you snapped sharply, “i devote my time--risk my life to feed you. and instead of the gratitude i’m owed, i get shit from everybody because of something i can’t control.”
“but you’ve showed them tonight who is in control.”
she reached out, resting a hand against your shoulder. you tensed, jerking away instinctively as your grip on the rifle tightened. she sighed through her nose, smiling softly. “i’m not challenging you, y/n. i’m simply inquiring about your feelings. that’s what i’m here for, and as you have so selflessly shown, i intend to serve my purpose.”
“your purpose is to be a cult leader?” you scoffed, “y’know what? i don’t even care for your bullshit, lottie. do whatever you want, but leave me out of it. I quit.”
oh, if only it were that simple. like you had any place to go.
“you won’t leave us to fend for ourselves. that’s not who you are.” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “you can’t submit to winter at its harshest hour. don’t give it that satisfaction, because you shall not turn into its prey.”
what the actual fuck kinda shit is this chick on?
you glanced at her, studying the soft lines of her face, the scar across her forehead. for a moment, you thought you saw something in her eyes--something not quite like the usual madness that made up most of lottie’s spiritual persona. it was like she was with you now, not lost in her visions, not tangled in whatever wild schizophrenic mumbo jumbo she clung to.
“you should go eat,” you muttered, staring off to the woods you had grown too familiar with. “they’re probably waiting for you to do grace.”
the joke didn’t faze her. you felt her gaze train on your lips.
she didn’t react, just leaned back slightly, her eyes still fixed on you. here voice was softer when she spoke again.
“we need you. i need you… will you come eat?”
your heart began hammering against your chest. that was the closest you had ever seen lottie come to admitting anything personal, anything real. anything human.
“i can’t.” you replied, voice quieter now, defenseless.
her lips parted to speak, but instead, she reached out, brushing a finger over the back of your hand, a gentle gesture that felt almost like an apology. a soft, fragile thing that caught you off guard. you let out a shaky breath, and for the first time that night, you felt the tension in your chest start to loosen. you didn’t pull away from her touch.
“how’s your nose?” you asked, voice hoarse.
lottie smile was small, a chuckle squeezed from her. “it’s nothing. i’ve had worse soccer injuries--i would say you hit quite gentle, actually, compared to those cucks at st. john’s.”
“fuck off,” you shot back, unable to keep the laugh you let out. “piss me off again, maybe i’ll show you how i really hit.”
“oh, yeah?” she beckoned, “i’m utterly shaking in fear.”
you turned your head to look at her, your pulse quickening when you caught her doe eyes already darting across your features. indecisive on where they should settle; undecided on which was her favourite. “i don’t that to be all i’ll ever be.”
“what?” she inquired, “a hunter?”
“a predator.” you corrected, “that’s all they’ll ever see me as, the one who pulls the trigger. it strips me of who i am.”
“i understand. i’m not a martyr,” she cut in, her voice sharp for a second, before her hands lowered to rest on her lap. “or at least, i’m sure that’s the figure they prefer i be. you need to serve a purpose here to survive. and i’m just trying to live.”
“why do you do that?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “why are you playing games with me, it’s so sadistic and cruel.”
lottie’s lips parted as if she wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come. she just shifted closer, and before you could stop her, she leaned in. the kiss was slow, tentative at first, like she was testing the waters. her lips were soft, warm against your cold skin. you tasted the tinge of iron still smeared across her upper lip. you hesitated only for a moment before your hand found her face, holding her closer, pulling her in deeper.
when you pulled back, both of you breathing a little heavier, lottie’s eyes were searching yours.
“you’re make it harderfor me to fucking hate you right now,” you muttered. “I’m not some… zombie for you to save.”
the cold air cut through your skin, but you didn’t feel it. not anymore. your body was too consumed by the heat of her, by the pull of her presence. she had you pinned against the supper beam beside the steps of the cabin, her hands gripping your arms with an eagerness that made your pulse race.
this wasn’t the lottie you knew. the one who spoke in riddles, who stayed distant, wrapped in her own world of spiritual nonsense. no, this was a different side of her--a side you wish you could see more often, one that was commanding, and undeniably predatory. unlike her usual doe persona.
her lips hovered just a breath away from yours. you wanted to move, to close the distance, but you couldn’t.
“you’ve gone so quiet, y/n,” lottie’s voice was low, almost mocking, as she traced a finger down your cheek. “i thought you liked to be in control, deer hunter.”
you swallowed, but your throat was dry. “i--i do.”
lottie smirked, the glint in her eyes sending a shiver down your spine. she was in control now. and you were the one helpless beneath her. her lips dove into your neck, her teeth grazing your throat like fangs choking a last breath from its prey.
your breath came out in a sharp gasp as she shifted, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip to hold you in place. she’s was stronger than you remembered, but she had always been at a physical advantage--even in soccer. you were at her mercy, and you let her consume you.
lottie’s lips crashed down onto yours, ferocious and demanding. there was no hesitation in her kiss--only the hunger, the need, the fervent want that she had buried so deep for so long. you tried to respond, to pull her closer, but you were trapped, and there was something intoxicating about it.
she pulled back just enough to look at you, her breath mingling with yours, lips swollen and slightly parted.
“will you surrender yourself then, y/n? to me?”
the weight of her gaze, the heat of her body against yours, made you lose your train of thought. you were drowning in her presence, breathing her in like it was the bane of your life.
you nodded. she smirked in satisfaction.
lottie’s hands moved lower now, tugging at your clothes with an urgency that made your heart race even faster. she was taking what she wanted, and you couldn’t do a damn thing to stop her. not that you wanted to.
her lips found your neck once again, biting gently at the sensitive skin there, and you gasped, the sensation sending a spark of heat straight to your core. you were her prey now, and the realization made you ache in ways you hadn’t expected.
she chuckled darkly against your skin, the sound low and rich with pleasure. “you like this, don’t you?”
“yes,” you breathed, unable to stop yourself. “i like it.”
her grin widened, triumphant. she knew it. she felt it. the way you melted into her touch, the way she had you exactly where she wanted you. she knew she would win you over one way or another. lottie leaned in again, this time taking control of the kiss in a way that sent your head spinning. she was all-consuming, all-powerful in this moment, and you were lost to her, unable to keep up with the frantic pace of her touch, her lips, her body pressing harder against you.
your hands moved up to her chest, but she was quicker, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.
the sudden shift made your pulse spike. she was showing you just how helpless you were, just how little power you had left. and that feeling, being nothing but her prey, only made the heat between you both burn hotter.
“well, my darling,” lottie said, her voice a mixture of desire and teasing. “i do believe it’s time for dinner.”

an; holy fuck this was a hefty one lmao. hope yall are enjoying reading these as much as i am writing them cuz this is my fix for the next two years until the next season (😔)
happy reading xx
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If I saw this you need to see it too (@d1dyke on TikTok)
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Mädchen Amick I’m Dangerous Tonight (1990), dir. Tobe Hooper
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Mädchen Amick and Sparks. SLEEPWALKERS (1992) dir. Mick Garris
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Jinx being suicidal, depressed and starving herself in that cell just for Caitvi to come in and HAVE SEX IN IT was diabolical writing
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 ART DECO huh yunjin x reader



♫❝ you’re so art deco out on the floor shining like gunmetal cold and unsure❞
𝜗℘ ⴰ attending a school full of wealthy, privileged kids was always uncomfortable for yunjin. she wasn’t one of them never had been, and likely never would be. but that never stopped her from falling for the girl she’s admired from afar since the moment she saw her. just as yunjin finally gets a chance to be with her, her just as rich snoby best friend who causes mischief everywhere she goes somehow gets in the way but not on purpose this is all yunjin’s doing.
oh right, there’s also a blog that follows their every move
in which instead of basking in the moment that she’s been waiting for, yunjin goes through the chaos of falling for sour rather than sweet
PARING — huh yunjin x rich!reader
𝜗℘ ͘ ⴰ genre + warnings : gossip girl!au, samu + written, fluff, angst, major drama, yunjin is in an underground band, placed in the 2000s
𝜗℘ ͘ ⴰ ft chaewon + kazuha ( lesserafim ), yena (soloist), sunghoon + jay ( enhypen ), beomgyu + yeonjun (txt), winter + karina ( aespa )
THE RICH KIDS | THE TEENAGE DIRTBAGS
𝜗℘ ͘ ⴰ BONUSES
soon to be added…
𝜗℘ ͘ ⴰ THE GOSSIP GIRL CHRONICLES
01. prologue (written)
02. normal girl (written)
03. super rich kids (written)
more to be added…
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𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎
jinx x fem!bombshell!reader
synopsis: You are a model for (victorias secret equivalent but in arcane universe) and jinx becomes infatuated with you. Known for you bombshell persona and explosive personality, you are the most well known model in all of piltover and zaun. Possibility even watching noxus and the other regions.
warnings: 18+, smut, kissing, smut, wlw , the use of a toy, jinx calls you sugar,
a/n: my first jinx fic <3, also on ao3 (not yet, under doorkiluv)
note | pls give me feedback (and don't only just like but also reblog and comment) this was supposed to be short but it went overboard
𓏲 ˖. ♡ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐱 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 for Piltover. Too clean, too polished, too boring. The people were all fake smiles and ridiculous hats, and she preferred the chaos of Zaun to its glittering streets. That all changed the day she first saw you. She’d been in Piltover on a whim, loitering in the shadows as she planned her next prank. Explosives in a fancy clock tower, maybe? She hadn’t decided yet. But her chaotic thoughts screeched to a halt when she looked up at the enormous neon screen in Piltover Square and saw your beautiful face.
You were walking down the runway in a show so glamorous it put Piltover’s polished spires to shame. Wrapped in a shimmering, barely-there gown that hugged your curves, you strode with an air of absolute confidence. Your bombshell persona was magnetic, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as the crowd erupted into applause. You gave the camera a cheeky wink and blew a kiss, and Jinx’s brain short-circuited.
“Holy… Who the hell is that?” she muttered, her wide eyes glued to the screen.
A vendor passing by glanced at her. “That’s her. You don’t know? The biggest model in all of Piltover and Zaun. Hell, even Noxus and Ionia are crazy about her.”
Jinx didn’t respond, too transfixed by the image of you flashing across the screen. You were a living firework, a walking explosion of charisma, beauty, and sheer presence. Your bold, flirty persona was a match for her own chaos, and it wasn’t just your looks that had her hooked—it was the energy you carried, the way you owned every moment. From that point on, Jinx was utterly captivated.
Back in her lair, your face became a constant presence. Jinx scavenged every poster, magazine, and billboard she could find that featured you. Her walls were covered in them, glossy images of you smirking, posing, and looking like you owned the world. She couldn’t get enough of you, and it drove her mad in the best way possible.
“Look at her,” she’d whisper to herself, lying on her bed and staring at a magazine cover where you lounged in a shimmering gold corset. “She’s a walking explosion.”
Whenever one of your commercials aired on Piltover’s big screens, Jinx made a point to watch. She’d perch on the rooftops, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you spoke directly to the camera, your voice sultry and teasing. Sometimes, she’d mimic your lines, laughing to herself at how ridiculous she sounded compared to you.
The first time Jinx saw you in person, she nearly short-circuited. You were in Zaun, of all places, stepping out of a sleek transport at one of the fancier underground clubs. It was rare for someone like you to venture into the depths, but you carried yourself with the same confidence that lit up your photoshoots. Heads turned as you walked through the crowd, a knowing smirk on your lips as if you knew exactly the effect you had on everyone around you. Jinx’s pulse quickened. This was her chance.
She darted through the crowd, weaving between gawking onlookers until she was standing at the bar beside you. Up close, you were even more stunning, your beauty almost overwhelming.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you in a dump like this,” Jinx drawled, leaning casually against the counter. Her nerves were on fire, but she masked it with her usual cocky grin.
You turned to her, one perfectly arched brow raising as you took her in. Your gaze lingered on her bright blue hair and manic energy, and a small, amused smile played on your lips.
“Maybe I like a little chaos,” you replied, your voice smooth as silk. “And you certainly look like the chaotic type.”
Jinx grinned wider, her confidence surging. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not just chaos—I’m a full-blown explosion.”
The two of you spent the night trading flirty remarks and playful banter, the tension between you crackling like a lit fuse. Jinx couldn’t believe her luck. You weren’t just a pretty face. But you had a fiery, explosive personality to match. You were bold, unapologetic, and just as dangerous as you were beautiful. At one point, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmured, “So… what’s it like knowing the whole damn world’s obsessed with you?”
You laughed, the sound low and sultry. “I don’t mind the attention,” you said, turning your head so your lips were almost touching hers. “But right now, I’m more interested in you.” Jinx’s heart nearly stopped.
Back at her lair, were things escalated rather quickly. Jinx couldn’t keep her hands off you, tracing every curve and line of your body like she was memorizing you. Her fingers lingered on your hips, her lips trailing heated kisses along your neck as she whispered breathless praises. “You’re even better than the posters,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “Didn’t think that was possible.”
You teased her with your signature confidence, your voice dripping with flirtation as you pulled her closer. “So you’ve been staring at my posters, huh? What did you think about me?”
Jinx blushed, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she grinned wickedly, her fingers tightening on your waist. “Thought about all the things I’d do if I ever got you alone,” she said, her tone low and rough. “And now, I’m not holding back.”
The tension was electric, charged with the crackling hum of her inventions and the intensity of her gaze on you. She had been teasing you mercilessly all evening, brushing her hands against your skin, dropping flirty remarks that sent heat pooling low in your belly. You could feel the mischief radiating off her as she twirled one of her newest creations in her hand. It was a bright, colorful pleasure device she'd been gushing about for days. Jinx loved experimenting, and tonight, you were her favorite subject.
She grinned at you, her sharp, mischievous grin that made your heart race every time. "Alright, Sugar," she purred, tossing the toy between her hands like it was some casual gadget and not something designed to make you lose your mind. "You trust me, don't ya?"
You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your usual flirty composure. "You mean to tell me that thing isn't gonna explode?"
Jinx cackled, tossing her head back. "Not this time, babe! Well, probably not. But hey, if it does, at least we'll go out with a bang!" She winked, and despite your hesitation, you couldn't help but nervously laugh. "You're impossible," you murmured letting her guide you to the mattress piled high with pillows and blankets.
"And you're irresistible," she shot back, pressing you down onto the bed with a surprising gentleness for someone so wild. Her hands were steady as they traced over your skin, her fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.
She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. "Let me take care of you, Sugar," she whispered, her voice dripping with sweetness and heat. "Promise I'll make it fun."
The first sensation was the gentle hum of the device she'd created, a soft vibration against your folds that made you arch into her touch. It was colorful and whimsical, much like Jinx herself, with blinking lights and playful patterns painted across its surface. Despite its toy-like appearance, the way it worked against your body was anything but innocent.
Her free hand skimmed over your inner thigh, her touch featherlight and maddeningly slow. The wetness pooling between your legs became impossible to ignore, and Jinx took full advantage, sliding the toy up until it pressed directly against your bundle of nerves. A slick, wet sound began filled the room, the vibrations amplifying the noise as your arousal spread. Jinx froze for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. "Oh, look at you," Jinx teased, her eyes bright as she watched your reaction.
"Didn't take much, huh? Bet I could've just touched you, and you'd be melting for me." You tried to retort, but the words caught in your throat as she pressed the device lower, her mischievous grin widening as your body jerked in response.
"Aw, Sugar, don't hold back," she crooned, tilting her head to the side as if studying you. "I like hearin' you. Makes it more fun for me."
Your head fell back, a moan slipping past your lips as she adjusted the settings, the vibrations intensifying. She laughed softly, her free hand stroking your thigh as if to ground you. You buried your face in your hands, mortified but too overwhelmed by the pleasure to stop her. The toy’s vibrations grew stronger, and the obscene wet noises only intensified as she moved it against you, her laughter turning into a low, appreciative hum. “Damn, you sound so good,” she murmured, her tone dipping into something more serious. “Bet I could make you scream just with this.”
Your hips bucked against the toy, your slick arousal coating it and making the sounds louder and wetter with each movement. The lewd squelching only seemed to spur Jinx on, her grin growing wider as she adjusted the settings, sending sharper bursts of pleasure through your body. “Listen to that, Sugar,” she teased, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re a fuckin’ symphony for me. All wet and messy, just how I like it.”
The embarrassment of her words was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure, your moans growing louder as the toy worked you closer to the edge. Jinx’s free hand slipped beneath your thigh, lifting your leg to spread you open further.
“Look at you,” she said, her eyes dark with hunger as she watched the toy glisten with your slick. “So damn pretty like this. Could stare at you all day."
Her words made your cheeks flush, though you couldn't focus on embarrassment for long. Every nerve in your body was alight, the sensation of her toy paired with her teasing kisses and caresses driving you to the edge. And then she pulled it away, grinning wickedly at your gasp of frustration. "Not yet, Sugar," she said, clicking her tongue. "I'm not done playin' with you."
She shifted her attention, leaning down to press her lips against your neck. Her kisses were hot and open-mouthed, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You felt her grin against your throat when you whimpered, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you. Her lips found your collarbone, her teeth sinking into the delicate skin to leave another mark.
"Gotta leave my mark," she murmured between kisses, sucking a particularly dark bruise just below your jaw. "Let everyone know you’re mine. My perfect, messy little bombshell.” Her words sent a shiver down your spine, but you hesitated, your modeling career flashing through your mind. "Jinx, I..."
She pulled back, her wide, manic eyes locking with yours. "Aw, don't worry about all that fancy-shmancy stuff," she said, her voice teasing but with an edge of sincerity. "Bet they'll just airbrush it or whatever. C'mon, Sugar, lemme have my fun."
Your protests melted away as she kissed you again, this time harder, deeper, her hands pinning your wrists above your head. The way she looked at you, like you were the most precious thing she'd ever seen, made your resolve crumble. "Fine," you murmured, breathless. "Do your worst."
Her grin was feral. "Oh, babe, you asked for it." Jinx worked her way across your body, leaving a trail of marks in her wake on your neck, your collarbone, and the valley between of your chest. Each one was a testament to her possessiveness, her need to claim you in a way that went beyond words. "You're gonna look so pretty tomorrow," she murmured, her hands and lips everywhere at once. "Walkin' around all marked up, like a damn work of art."
You couldn't even bring yourself to care about the consequences anymore. Her touch was overwhelming, every kiss and bite sending jolts of pleasure through you. She alternated between using her toy and her hands, keeping you teetering on the edge but never quite letting you fall. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice dark and playful as she hovered above you. "C'mon, Sugar, lemme hear it. Tell me how bad you want me to finish you off."
Your pride wavered, but the need coursing through you won out. "Please, Jinx," you gasped, your voice shaking. "I need you. Please."
She chuckled, clearly satisfied with your quick surrender. "That's more like it," she said, finally pressing the toy back against you. The sensation was overwhelming, and this time, she didn't stop, driving you higher and higher until you finally shattered, a cry escaping your lips as you came undone beneath her. Jinx didn't stop right away, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling, your body spent and your mind hazy.
When she finally set the toy aside, she crawled up beside you, pulling you into her arms with surprising gentleness. "See?" she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Told ya it'd be fun."
You tilted your head up to meet her gaze, a small smile playing on your lips despite your exhaustion. "Guess I'm stuck with you then," you teased, your flirty nature peeking through even now.
Jinx grinned, her signature chaos in her expression, but there was something softer there, something that tugged at your heart. "Damn right you are. You're mine, babe. Every last gorgeous inch of you." Her fingers danced across your body, tracing the bruises she'd left, her eyes filled with pride as she admired her handiwork. You shivered under her touch, the sensitivity from her earlier teasing still lingering.
"Look at this," she mused, her tone somewhere between awe and glee. "You're a freakin' masterpiece, Sugar. Better than any of those shiny posters they plaster all over Piltover and Zaun."
You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound weak but genuine. "You think so?"
"I know so," she said firmly, leaning down to nuzzle her face into your neck. "They see the bombshell, the glitz, and the glam, but I get this. I get the real you, all wrecked and perfect just for me." Her words sent warmth spreading through your chest, the vulnerability beneath her usual bravado making your heart ache. You reached up to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. "You're too good to me, you know that?"
Jinx snorted, pulling back just enough to smirk at you. "Too good? Babe, I'm a menace. But I guess l've got a soft spot for you."
"Lucky me," you teased, letting your fingers trail down to the nape of her neck. She leaned into your touch, her grin softening into something sweeter. "Damn right. You're the luckiest gal in all of Piltover, Zaun, maybe even Noxus." Her playful boasting earned another laugh from you, and she kissed you again, slower this time, her earlier fire giving way to something gentler. The kiss lingered, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.
When she finally pulled away, she flopped down beside you, pulling you into her arms as if she couldn't bear to let you go. You rested your head on her chest, listening to the steady thrum of her heartbeat as your body relaxed into hers.
"Y'know," Jinx murmured, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back, "I used to look at those big, fancy posters of you and think, ‘She's way too good for someone like me!"
You tilted your head up to look at her, surprised by her confession. "Jinx..."
"But then I thought," she continued, her voice growing steadier, "what's life without a little chaos, right? And lucky for me, you're just as explosive as I am." Her words brought a smile to your lips, and you reached up to brush a strand of blue hair from her face. "Guess we make a pretty good match then, huh?"
She grinned, her manic energy shining through even in this quiet moment. "The best, Sugar." As the adrenaline from earlier began to fade, you let yourself sink into the warmth of her embrace, her steady presence grounding you. Despite the chaos that always seemed to follow Jinx, moments like this reminded you why you'd fallen for her in the first place.
banner: @anitalenia
taglist: @blazemaster4014 @st6rship @axoluxy @1nakitofan @redskye11 @cxcilla @evneedshozierrn @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @raspberry-lava @alduinworldeater11 @m00nd0v3 @idk2anym @emmy21842 @ladey @keysmashsstuff @blkmystery
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🗑️ dumpster dive, winter x f!reader smau
a social media smau.
synopsis : after getting drunk and attending your boyfriend's party you find him hitting on one of your friends. after crying for a bit, you decide to sleep next to his trash can in the back of his house. little did you know now there are rumors of you being homeless and broke, and some people think you were thrown by your boyfriend in the dumpster. one of these people is winter, and she is determined to treat you better than that scum.
genre : highschool setting, strangers to lovers.
warnings : swearing, spelling mistakes, ignore timestamps
status : ongoing, no update schedule
taglist (OPEN) : @gtfoiydlyj @yeetaberry127 @hearts4jiheon @sixflame438 @saysirhc @222brainrot @ringelar
FEATURING
-> profiles . . . thats on gang (yns) | bad bitch number (winter)
ACT ONE : im turning lesbian
01. tomadachi life
02. i regret everything
03. you’re overreacting
04. mistakes were made
05. chill i dont want you😂
06. SHES MINE
.
.
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PAUSE : yu jimin



# synopsis : you were sm’s new trainee and accidentally hitting the karina of aespa wasn’t exactly on your bucket list. unfortunately, karina holds grudges.
# pairing : trainee!femoc x karina
# status : on going! (10/19/24 - ??/??/??)
# updates : every sunday (extras will be posted whenever i want)
# content : wlw, karina’s “straight”, switches between real and stage names, secret dating, dirty jokes, cursing, strangers to acquaintances to lovers, kys/kms jokes
# cast : choi hyesun (original character), aespa (all), itzy (shin ryujin), red velvet (kim “yeri” yerim), ahn jiyul (played as choi soobin from txt), and more!
# playlist : press play
profiles. bigbacks + duobird
— CHAPTERS :
prolouge. some girl
01. hye’s doomed
extra. holy shit it’s duolingo
02. sm coffee (written)
03. not rizz
04. evaluation day
05. i hate this (written)
06. unnie save me (half written)
07. what if i kms
— TAGLIST (open) : @winieter @xen248 @yjiminswallet @saysirhc @yeetaberry127 @gtfoiydlyj @artrizzler19 @xen248 @yuyuy90 @hooneysugarh @ourlovesarang @secretninjadonut
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